Monique cried and cried and cried. She wanted to stop crying but her mouth wouldn’t shut up. She let out the most wrecked sob from her throat whilst she was on her knees, the blood dripping on her skin. She saw Oliver’s familiar frame from a distance. He immediately jogged towards her, and as the light contoured his features, there was worry speckling in his green eyes. He wore a plain grey shirt, accentuating his built frame.
“What happened?” he asked, and without waiting for her reply, he scooped her in his arms, as if she weighed nothing. Monique hid her face from the curtain of her hair, suppressing another sob escaping from her throat.
As they reached his flat, Oliver laid her on his soft couch, immediately jogging to his bathroom and grabbed the first aid kit. Wounds marked on Moni
